Snippets
by tsusami
Summary: A collection of Naruto x Gaara drabbles. Includes fluff, angst, humor, romance, and everything in between.
1. Traveling Companion

Traveling Companion

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Traveling Companion

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"Hey Naruto, look at these! Aren't they cute?" Sakura held up a pink pig for him to examine.

"It looks like Tsunade-baba's pet, minus the pearls." Naruto wrinkled his nose in distate.

"It's a pillow! Look!" Sakura squeezed the pig in demonstration. "It's soft and squishy, and small enough to carry around on missions." She hugged the pig close.

"Yeah, yeah," Naruto waved her away. "Like I need something cute like that. Those silly things are for girls." Naruto stopped in his tracks. Next to the pile of pink and black pigs was a pile of monkeys and bananas. But just beyond that was a pile of pandas. He walked over slowly, curious about the little black and white pillows and picked one up. It _was_ soft and squishy, just like Sakura had said. Naruto gave it a few tentative squeezes before grinning.

"You like it?" the shopkeeper asked. "We also have one more in red." She rummaged around her boxes and pulled out one more in the same pattern only it was white and red. Naruto let out a big smile. He felt a bit silly, but he simply couldn't pass it up.

"I'll take that one," he said discreetly, passing Sakura a glance to see if she was paying attention. He pulled out his green wallet and pulled out the right amount of coins. As he handed it to the woman, he noted something in her pocket.

"Ne, baa-san, can I borrow your red marker?"

She handed it to him, smiling and he pulled the panda pillow close enough to write something on it.

"Thanks," he smiled and handed it back to her.

He took one look at the red panda, staring up at him with beady little eyes and a red "ai" drawn on the left side of his forehead. He chuckled to himself and stuffed it into his pack to keep it safe.

Living on the road was tough sometimes, but he had a feeling that from now on, it would feel a little less lonely.


	2. Sore Loser

Sore Loser

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Sore Loser

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Naruto somersaults backward, avoiding another projectile aimed straight for his heart. He blocks the next few hits, dropping down to swipe Gaara's feet out from under him. He uses the moment of awkwardness to launch a combination of kicks and punches he knows will steadily work its damage. He is thrown back when an upper cut catches him below the chin, tossing him in the air and landing him flat on his back. An evil laugh sounds.

"Crap, that one hurt," he thinks to himself, worried of the end that might be near. He jumps to his feet and tries to block the oncoming attacks, but he is badly weakened and all his attempted to gain the upper hand are feeble at best.

"Finish him!" a deep voice commands. Naruto watches in horror as his character's heart is ripped out on screen. "Hahaha! Fatality." Naruto throws down the control in anger. Gaara glances over in amusement.

"You were saying?"

"Argh!" Naruto yells. He picks up the controller again hastily, clicking the button to continue. "Best out of seven!" he shouts fiercely.

Gaara shakes his head but he is smiling. Sometimes, Naruto really doesn't know when to quit.


	3. Tell Me

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Tell Me

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He forced himself to look at him. He refused to look away despite the pounding of his heart and the trembling of his hands. He looked straight into those intense blue eyes and held his gaze, waiting for the one word that would make or break him.

"No."

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and let out a slight shudder of relief.

"But he loves you," he mumbled, never letting his gaze falter for a second.

Naruto's eyes were searching his now, perhaps looking for the signs of relief, joy, or anything other than the indifference he was trying to project.

"Sasuke is my teammate. He's practically my brother. So I told him no."

"That's it? He let you go like that?"

The handsome shinobi slipped into a familiar grin. Naruto's eyes met Gaara's- a flicker of interest, or some hidden mirth just visible in the slight wrinkling at his eyes.

"I told him he's not the one I'm in love with."

His heart began to pound again; his eyes widened just slightly, the only testimony to his utter shock.

His best friend was in love and he had no idea. His mind automatically began to compile a list of potential candidates.

"And does this person love you back?" he asked out of concern, but also fear.

He was startled out of his mental listing when Naruto stepped closer to him. He didn't recoil, didn't step back, and didn't do anything to avoid the hand that was reaching out for him, or suddenly caressing his cheek.

"I don't know," the pad of his thumb ran across his cheek. "I was hoping you could tell me."


	4. Photograph

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Photograph

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Gaara stood in Naruto's room, eyes glued with consternation to the photo framed atop the dresser. A 12 year old Naruto glared grumpily at the famed Uchiha, Sakura smiling between them while their teacher hovered over them. He knew this was Naruto's team and that they meant a lot to one another, but he couldn't help feeling irritated that something else was missing.

A warm arm wrapped itself around his waist from behind, another rested on his shoulder and held a worn, crinkled photograph in front of him.

"Is this the one you're looking for?" Naruto asked.

The photo captured an exuberant 15 year old blond grinning foxily, a thumbs up shoved into the viewer's face. His other hand was resting on the shoulder of a very frumpy looking red head- hair askew from having just woken up and eyes bleary in what looked to be a very candid shot.

Gaara blushed. It was a terrible photo of him, but it was the first one they had ever taken together.

"What did you do to it?" Gaara avoided Naruto's question.

Naruto turned him so they could face one another.

"I never leave on a mission without it. I keep it here," Naruto placed two fingers over his heart, "always."

Gaara turned red in embarrassment. He lowered his eyes hoping to hide how happy he felt. "It's going to get ruined," he stammered. "What if…"

Naruto shook his head, lifting Gaara's chin to force his eyes to his. "I told you, didn't I? I always protect what's precious to me."

And before Gaara could stammer or look away, Naruto was kissing him, mouth sweeping up all the things he meant to say.


	5. Hourglass

Hourglass, Apathy, Any

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Hourglass

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Gaara found it curious that there would be an hourglass in the hospital- a glass monstrosity with two silver hands reaching for the minute and hour as the sand slipped between them. It would be easy for him to manipulate those silvery granules, to make time go backwards by forcing the sand up instead of down, or halt the flow entirely with a simple command. But it would be more symbolic than actual and he didn't think the hospital staff would appreciate it.

Instead, he watched quietly as time slid through the chasm, wondering what would happen when the hour ran out. He experienced, for a brief second, an intense flash of panic. What _would_ happen? But it faded just as quickly, sliding through a chasm like the sand.

His vision blurred slightly as he lost his focus on the hourglass. His eyes refocused on the image in the glass- on the impassive face reflected there. He had an image of the past, remembering the cold green eyes that used to look at the world with hate. There was no hate in this expression, but the lack of invitation was perhaps the reason why those around him left him in peace.

The voices came back to him then, wheedling him with their cheap sympathies and thin reassurances. He focused his attention on the sand, imagining the words being washed down, shut out, transported from the here to the not here. He didn't need their optimistic speculations. Only time would tell with honesty.

His sand rushed to form a small shield, blocking the back of his head. He startled, more at the thought of someone attempting violence against him than fear of actual endangerment. He wheeled around angrily to defend himself and was met with the stare of angry blue eyes.

"Bastard! Stop acting like you don't care!" Uzumaki yelled furiously. Gaara

was yanked into a fierce hug, strong arms enveloping him and holding him close. Gaara, stiff with the shock, couldn't think fast enough to resist- his apathy slipping with those last few grains of sand. _What would happen now?_

He thought of his sister's unconscious body spread out on the operating table. His eyes drifted to the large gray doors, but no one had emerged.

His body began to sink into Uzumaki's. A mechanical device was triggered at the hour, turning the hour glass over to repeat the cycle once more. He watched those silvery granules begin their new descent, green eyes reflected impassively despite the trickle of tears.


	6. What it Means to be in Love

What It Means To Be In Love

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What It Means To Be In Love

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Gaara learns _not_ in the chaotic throes of passion, but in the moments of stillness; in the quiet cadence of even breath and a pair of eyes touching him deeper than fingers or tongue. One look makes his breath catch, a glowing wonder spreading through his body faster than blood in his veins.

It is in this moment that Gaara knows he is in love; and it is in this stillness that his world bursts violent red.

For to Gaara, _I love him_ translates to _I can't lose him_.

And he knows he must and he will-- be it to the blade in enemy hands, the wear and tear of a body past mending or the honeyed whispers of an unnamed lover. They will make their attempts and someday Naruto will fail. The ninja world makes no allowances for lovers; equally harsh in its punishments regardless of whom is loved.

Fierceness shatters the moment of stillness. Gaara clings to Naruto with the same panicked desperation whose mark is still etched upon his forehead. His hair is stroked in a way that should be comforting, but with which Gaara has little experience. Silently, he thinks of his mother.

For the first time he wonders if he has not misunderstood her hate all these years; if the woman that welcomed him with screaming hatred into the world perhaps loved his father as desperately as he does the man wrapped in his arms; that by ripping his existence out of hers he had severed a tie of love.

This sort of hatred he can forgive her for. This sort of hatred is deserved. And it is in this context that taking a human life will never be the same.

"Relax," Naruto says, "I'll be back in two weeks. It's just escort duty," he chuckles.

Mirth holds no bearing over an irrational fear of the million things that can go wrong. Gaara wants to scream no, that he must not leave, but instead he holds Naruto tighter. Fear looms larger than love-- fear that his happiness cannot last.

"Gaara!" Naruto says in surprise. Gaara ignores the slight tone of impatience. "You act like I'm going on an A-Rank." He is rubbing Gaara's arms soothingly, but it is a gesture for him to let go. "I need to go or I'll be late," he sounds apologetic, the iron grip melting.

"Come back to me," he orders, not caring that he is showing his unease. Naruto smiles, two callused palms cupping the sides of his cheeks.

"Nothing could stop me," he leans in to whisper before pressing against his closed mouth. The warmth from his lips weaves a simple spell, traveling through Gaara's body and restoring his calm. Gaara nods, takes a step back and lets his arms fall. He wonders how being in love can feel so much like heartache.

Watching his lover leave he wonders if every parting will be like this. He notes what a hazardous undertaking it is to fall in love.

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	7. Memory

Memory

Memory

Having once experienced it, Naruto thought he understood the nature of love. He once compared it to an exploding tag—activated by a touch and consuming everything in flame. For so it had been with Sasuke and so it continued to be until the ignition failed; their explosion fizzled into sparks that could not catch.

Lying in bed next to the Kazekage, he thought about that sometimes. He wondered how he had failed to see that his ideas about love were all wrong.

Sometimes when he trailed fingertips over his lover's body he thought of Sasuke. He would remember the way their bodies collided—the crash of wind and lightning, the lust sweeping them like a storm. It raged through them until there was nothing left to give—a fire burning down to the bone.

But here with Gaara there were no violent explosions nor all consuming fires. Loving Gaara was like the gentle warmth of glowing embers in his veins. Some nights all it took was a kiss, warm and moist, to start those embers glowing and sometimes just the glimpse of a collarbone, a bared shoulder, or snatch of skin so often shielded from the light. Naruto marveled at how such simple things could put his body on edge and how lust was not another word for desire. They were not so intertwined as he once believed.

Some nights it was enough to simply hold the other man in his arms, to feel his body curled up against his and feel the steady rhythm of his heart. Kisses did not have to lead to two spent bodies, though he thought it was okay that it often did. But what surprised him most, what shocked him into realization was that his passion for his lover did not diminish over time. It grew stronger and deeper with each passing day.

Some days he thought he could not possibly love the Kazekage anymore than he already did. And yet every day proved him wrong.


	8. Candlelit Moment

Candlelit Moment:

"I'm here to talk to you," he says.

Naruto nods nervously. He knows Gaara isn't the same as he was years ago when they first met, but there is still something unsettling about the pale boy with the sharp green eyes and the blood red tattoo burning on his forehead.

Naruto sits down on the living room floor and kicks off his wet sandals. He tosses them at the front door and dries his feet with the towel draped around his shoulders. He grimaces at his wet pants and realizes that the Kazekage must also be damp from the waist down.

"Tomorrow is the Chuunin Exam Final," he says. Naruto nods. He knows. He is one of the competitors. And Gaara, presumably, will be the judge. Gaara is quiet then. He settles down on the floor next to Naruto. His knee bumps into Naruto's leg, but he leaves it there, allowing this awkward touch.

"Years ago..," he begins. He clasps his hands around his knees and pulls his legs closer to himself. His shoulder glows faintly in the soft light of the lit votives, flickering from cut down ramen cups, his makeshift candlestick holders. He looks down at his lap. "What I did..."

The storm raging outside rattles the windows. Gaara's face is somber in the flashing light.

Naruto places a hand on his arm to stop him.

"It was a long time ago," he smiles. In the dim light he can see the visible nod of the Kazekage's head, but not the expression obscured by shadows. "You're not that person anymore." Naruto's gaze settles on his hand, touching the Kazekage so casually. He pulls his hand away, startled, wondering if he has overstepped his bounds.

"I apologize," the Kazekage says, "for hurting the ones precious to you." He looks at the spot Naruto touched just moments before.

Naruto is tempted to laugh, to ask the somber boy to make it up to him with ramen; but the Kazekage's cold hand reaches for his, clammy fingers closing over his on the wooden floor. Naruto grows quiet and wonders how much bravery this small action has cost. He can hear the sound of the rain pattering against the walls outside.

The significance of this hand reaching out is not lost on him. He curls his fingers to clasp the Kazekage's.

He remembers that despite their rank, there is very little else that separates them. The Kazekage shivers in his cold apartment. His fingers hold on a little tighter, just the slightest squeeze before he pulls his hand away.

Naruto suspects this gesture is an important one. In time he will learn how much.


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